I'm Still Here
by crayola goggles
Summary: blythe just wanted a normal relationship, but dating the guitarist from all time low really didn't give her the option for that. a jack barakat fic, featuring alex gaskarth, rian dawson, and zack merrick.


_HEY. READ THIS! Haha. But seriously. Just started it, love it. let me know if you like ittt. Its kind of slow right now, but if you read it, leave me a note and that'd be sweeeeet! _

Alone. Again. I'd lost count of all the nights I spent laying in my bed, wondering if he's ever come home. There was never any way for me to tell if he was two minutes, or two countries away. The only conformation I got was that same message, same time, every night.

_I'm still here. Love you._

But was he? Or was someone else posing as him? Sometimes, I felt like I'd never know. Sure, when I was home he was excited to see me. But what did that have to do with anything? I still never knew if he was really thinking of me besides those three seconds it took him to send a text.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to imagine the feel of his arms around me. The familiar way he kissed me hair and whispered my name. His playful laugh and the way he always managed to smell like strawberries and old spice, no matter where he'd been.

It was getting harder to just rely on those memories. Just thinking about him when I was feeling lonely wasn't enough. I needed the real thing. When the real thing was thousands of miles away, living the dream, it didn't seem too real.

When I woke up the next morning, it was as if I'd never thought of him. He had a way of only creeping into my mind late at night, when my busy life couldn't occupy me any longer.

"Blythe?" a familiar voice came from somewhere else in the apartment. I rolled my eyes.

"Tony. Seriously, how many times have I told you to stop breaking into my house? It's getting annoying." I scolded my best friend, throwing a sock at her when she pushed the bedroom door open. She grinned, pushing her long black hair over her shoulder.

"You should start locking that door, girl." She shrugged, plopping her teensy butt on the nearest uncluttered surface.

"Probably." I agreed, yawning. I sat up, stretching my arms over my head. Tony made an annoyed scoffing noise.

"Really, Blythe? Sleeping in that shirt… again?" she rolled her eyes at me this time. I looked down at the blue t shirt that belonged to Jack, ignoring her belittling gaze.

"Yes, I am." I answered curtly.

"That thing must smell like shit." She noted, getting up off her chair to sift through my closet. I picked up the sleeve, sniffing self consciously. It smelled okay, sort of. Tony pulled my closet door wider, forcing me to look straight at my own pathetic reflection. My mousy brown hair was sticking up in all directions, one of my eyes was slightly swollen, and Jack's shirt went down to my knees. Great, I was probably sleep punching now. Just what I needed.

"So," Tony started, running her thing gingers through my limited wardrobe. "I've got a date tonight. And you'll sit home and wallow all night. So I'm thinking I'll borrow some clothes I picked out for you, but, for reasons unknown, you never wear." Reasons unknown, my ass. The clothes she wore were outrageous. Too revealing, too pink, just too much in general. Tony was already stripping down, the clock said it was eleven thirty seven a.m., and I had to get up.

"Don't mind me, then. I'd say make yourself at home, but…" she tossed her bra at my face and shut my bedroom door on me. classy. I scuffed my feet across the hall to the bathroom and turned the shower on, ready to wake up.

Twenty minutes later, I was out, hair damp, and ready to rock the shit out of my day. Ton was sitting on my bed, long legs crossed, holding a picture frame. I frowned, leaning to snatch it from her.

"That one is honestly cute of you two." She said lightly, almost sighing. I looked at it, trying not to smile too big. Jack had both his arms around me, eyes closed, sweet smile. I had my hands attached to his arms, grinning like I was in love, because I was. I put the picture back on my night stand, facing my pillow.

"So, get out, I have to get ready for work." I commanded, shoving Tony out my door. She blew me a kiss and went on her way like she'd never been here, except for that fact that she was wearing my clothes and had probably 'borrowed' twenty bucks for gas money. Typical.

I spent the next hour drying my hair, getting ready for work and all that fun stuff. If I just worked at some diner in town, I wouldn't care, but since I magazine was all about looks, I had to care. Damn big corporations. Not that it should have mattered, I was just the girl that got coffee and had the occasional witty remarks that got frowned upon. I was living the life, no doubt about that. If only those classy, up town people I worked for knew I was dating a guy that played guitar and made preteens swoon for a living. If only they knew.

Eight mochas, three chai teas, and five straight black coffees later, I was slumped in an office chair, rubbing the back of my neck. Another intern, Mark, was sitting across from me on the floor, trying his best to make the last sprinkled donut last.

"I hate this job. I want to die." He droned, adding a little fake swoon at the end. I giggled.

"You say that every day, Mark."

"It's true." He grumbled. I just shook my head, watching him sigh dramatically and pick at his freshly painted nails. Even for a gay guy, he took way better care of himself than I did. I checked my watch, groaning.

"Breaks up, let's go." I said reluctantly. Mark got up, brushing himself off.

"We've got dumb blonde's to attend to." He sighed, running a hand through his always perfect cherry red hair.

"Damn right we do."

Six frappes, twelve donuts, and seven sandwiches later, I was headed home. Mark was texting me nonstop about some hottie he'd seen, and my cab driver couldn't stop staring every time I snorted loudly. Mark was hilarious and gay. It really wasn't my fault at all.

"Here is good." I told the driver a few minutes later, holding him the money and stepping out. I'd taken the same route so many times; I always had my exact change ready.

I stomped my way up the stairs, shaking off the cold New York air before I pushed the key into the door, leaving it unlocked as I let myself in. I couldn't help it. I just had this sad optimism that I could trust people. It'd come back to haunt me eventually, I knew that.

My boots skidded across the hard wood floor when I kicked them off, letting out a big break and stretching my toes.

"Oh yeah." I breathed, stretching my arms above my head. The clock read eleven thirty seven, exactly twelve hours after I'd woken up this morning. I loved the night shift. I was more of a sleep all day, stay up all night and do nothing kind of girl. Lucky for me, I had the next two weeks off to do just that. The boss was giving me two weeks off during the holiday season for some reason. What didn't make sense was that it was November fifteenth today, and I was getting two weeks off for thanksgiving. Whatever. I looked forward to wearing pj's all day and pretending to be interested in politics and late night television.

I stepped out of the shower an hour later, throwing on sweat pants and Jack's shirt. So what if it wasn't washed. Bite me, hygiene. Just because I was twenty one, didn't mean I had to wash my clothes.

"Ooh, la la." I moaned, pulling out the vanilla ice cream from the freezer. I grabbed a spoon and skipped over to the shabby coach, the big empty one where the rest of my family should have been, and closed my eyes, turning the TV on and picking a random channel. Something about river monsters. Piranhas.

I paid strict attention for a good our or two, leaning all about the Amazon and all the shit that happened there.

I started to yawn around three, so I clicked the TV off and headed in, lazily tossing the empty gallon of ice cream into the sink. Someone's habits were still sticking with me. I shut the lights off and cuddled into bed, cold. I needed a cat. A big, warm, fuzzy cat. One with no claws. That always wanted to cuddle me. My life was getting sad.

I feel asleep thinking about the Lion King, cookies, and Jack. A while later, I blinked my eyes open, looking at the clock across from me. It read four twenty six a.m., which didn't make sense. I should still be asleep. I felt a slight movement beside me, a shift in weight on my bed. My door was open. I took a deep breath and smelled strawberries.

A pair of long arms found their way around me stomach as I turned around to face them. Jack's face was illuminated only by my clock, the red light gleaming against his white teeth.

"Hi." He whispered loudly. I giggled, my toes curling in excitement as he tapped my stomach playfully.

"Blythe, you have an ice cream baby." He scolded, patting my nose with his fingers.

"I know." I whispered-yelled back, hooking my hands into the front of his shirt. I wiggled my toes down so they could creep comfortably up his warm ankles. I let out a sight of relief as my icy toes pressed against his toasty legs.

"Missed you lots." Jack whisper yelled in my ear, shifting me closer so my head was against his chest. I breathed in, smelling old spice, strawberries, and airport.

"Did you just get in?" I mumbled against him.

"Yeah." His chest rumbled against my head, making me giggle again. He pulled away, frowning.

"Excuse me, this is where I'm being silent and romantic, I'd appreciate it if you'd shut your mouth." He scolded. I shrugged, looking up into his brown, puppy eyes.

"Kiss?" I asked, pouting my lip out. He grinned, nodding. He pulled back in, pressing his lips against mine gently. Once. Twice. Seven times. I licked my lips a few minutes later, but jack groaned impatiently, his hand traveling down my back.

"The rest of the guys are gonna be in town tomorrow." He said slowly, moving his head around, trying to prove a point.

"Which means sex now?" I offered. He nodded excitedly. "No. I'm tired. You're tired."

"Blythe, it's been four months, sixteen days and…" he looked over my shoulder, "roughly seventeen hours. I'm dying here." He complained. Impressive. I still shook my head. Jack sighed, defeated. Ha, I win.

"Soon." I compromised, picking up the covers and laying them over both of us. He flipped me around so we were spooning in that cute sort of way, resting his head behind mine, breathing against my neck.

"Love you, Jack." I whispered into the silence.

"Love you too, Blythe."


End file.
